


Treachery, Thy Name Is Brother

by The_Lady_Meg



Series: Demonic Politics Verse [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Demon Dean Winchester, F/M, King of Hell Sam, Knights of Hell and their attendant problems, Queen of Hell Jess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-03-07 08:06:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3167603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Lady_Meg/pseuds/The_Lady_Meg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is the King of Hell, Jess is his Queen, Dean is a rogue Knight of Hell, most of his friends are demons, and surprisingly, none of these are the biggest problem Sam has right now.</p><p>**So I realise updates are not happening very often, and I am very sorry for that. The problem is I just really don't like SPN atm. Which makes writing about it a bit of a problem. I will probably be able to get back to it sometime this summer, but you shouldn't expect more updates before then. Sorry again!**</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kill Your Demons

**Author's Note:**

> So I finally pulled myself together enough to actually start writing this. Updates will be irregular, I'm afraid, and I will switch between this and Situational Friendship as the muse strikes.
> 
> Reading at least the first part of this verse is highly recommended (because this will rely on you having read it, and also because I'm stupidly proud of it). As always, anything spoken that's in italics is the Speech.

Sam was expecting millennia to pass before Cain comes to find him to collect on their deal. In point of fact, it’s slightly less than 50 years after Stull. He’s vaguely amused by it, the father of murder standing in his study demanding the fate he dealt out to so many.

He doesn’t have a choice, of course, and even if he did, he’d given his word. Cain is one of the few left that could conceivably inconvenience Sam’s reign. It’s unlikely he could gain enough of a foothold to overthrow him, but Sam has too many friends to lose, too many people he cares about, to risk them. Even if it means finding and facing his brother again.

Although as it turns out, it’s not too hard. Dean’s still based in the Bunker, still drinks, eats and fucks around the same places. It’s terrible strategy, and probably worse for his psyche. If he was mortal, someone would have knifed him years ago.

Abaddon and a couple of her lieutenants end up having to wrestle him back to Sam’s house, which is still in Kent - he likes it here, it’s quiet, and the library’s wonderful. It’s also the house where he got Jess back. He’s sentimental, sue him.

That particular train of thought is broken by Dean sneering at him from the doorway to his reception room.

“Heya Sam.”

Balaam stiffens next to him, radiating hostility. He knows Sam best of all the demons on his council, better than anyone apart from Jess, and he knows how much Sam hates the power Dean still has over him. But there is a time and a place for such anger, and this is neither. Sam shoots him a quelling look before turning his attention back to Dean.

“Dean. How’ve you been?” He looks like shit, but Sam knows better than to tell him that. He looks less human now, slowly gaining the edge of otherness that every supernatural being has. Sam has it too, now. Even Jess has started acquiring it. Stay around power too long and it changes you. Sam and Jess at least got the good end of the stick. Immortality and psychic enhancements aren’t the end of the world, and Sam would know. Dean, however, has started to look demonic. There’s a sneer almost carved into his face, and if Sam squints at him he can see the black smoke around the edges of his aura.

“Not as good as you, obviously.” Dean smirks at Jess, whose eyebrows appear to be trying to retreat into her hair. “Didn’t know you were into zombies as well as everything else. Although I s’pose you may as well collect the set. Werewolf, demon, kitsune, zombie… Hey, you think we could find you a hot vampire girlfriend as well?”

Balaam and Abaddon are visibly tense now, fighting back the instinct to rip Dean to shreds for the disrespect he’s showing. They’ve taken to Jess better than most of the other older demons, according her the same respect they give Sam, and most of the flirting. Sam massages his forehead and tries not to think about how much easier his life would be if his brother had the tact God gave a two-year-old.

“Enough already. I need one thing from you, and then you can go back to whatever it is you were doing.” He’d reiterate the offer to stay, but it’d look like he was begging, and he can’t afford that. Not around demons, not even now, when he’s got a solid power base and a tight-knit, trustworthy council.

Dean rolls his eyes and walks over to the window to inspect the grounds. “Oh yeah? And what’s that?” He turns back. “Hey, should I bow, or something? Maybe call you your Majesty?”

Sam refuses to rise to the bait. “Cain wants to die. The only way he can do that is if you kill him with the First Blade. You apparently made the same deal when he gave you the Mark. I provide the First Blade, you do what you promised, and we all carry on with our lives.”

“Is that right?” Dean considers him for a minute, an odd smile playing over his face. “And what if I decide I don’t want to give the Blade back, Sammy? What happens if I decide that I want to carve you to pieces with it?”

“Then Sam says roll over and you go back to being a good dog.” Jess snarls at him. Her tolerance level for people being rude or disrespectful to Sam is low at the best of times, and she’s never liked Dean, even when all she knew about him was the little Sam had told her at Stanford.

Dean’s face darkens. “Sam, control your bitch.”

And oh, that is _it_.

“ _Enough_.”

Dean freezes in place and glares at Sam, unable to say anything.

“I have told you how this is going to go. You made a deal with Cain, same as I did. Now hold up your end and get out.” Asmodeus appears in the doorway, holding the First Blade and looking distinctly uncomfortable about it. Sam waves him towards his brother, who takes the Blade with another smirk, angrier this time.

Cain nods to Sam and faces Dean, who twirls the Blade a few times before asking brusquely “You sure this is what you want?”

Sam hides a smile as Cain answers. His brother is still in there somewhere, it seems. He might get Dean back someday. They have forever now, an eternity to mend their relationship, or at least to get to the stage where they can be in the same room without murder being a distinct possibility.

It’s harder to hold onto that thought when Dean reacts immediately to Cain’s affirmative, sinking the Blade into the older demon’s stomach and watching gleefully as his eyes light up and then fade.

Cain drops to the floor and Dean wipes the Blade off on his corpse. Asmodeus moves forward to take the Blade back from Dean, who pulls it out of his reach with a glint in his eye, cold and murderous. Sam snaps his fingers, returning the Blade to a safe only he and Asmodeus know the location of. His brother snorts and bows mockingly, before turning and striding out of the room. No-one stops him.

The father of murder is dead. As he watches a couple of minor demons move the corpse out of his reception room to be burnt, Sam can’t help but wonder what has been raised in his stead.


	2. Evil Be Thou My Good

The bunker door creaks as Dean pushes it open. The noise his footsteps make on the metal stair is almost comforting. It’s stayed the same for the last fifty-odd years now. He likes when things stay as they should be. Any time his life has changed it hasn’t been for the better. He’d thought maybe finding the bunker had broken that pattern. Turns out that was a pipe dream.

He is therefore annoyed to find that his returning-to-the-bunker routine has been screwed up by the fact that someone else is here. He’s rounded the corner into the library with a knife in his hand before he’s really registered he’s moving. Things move faster now than they used to. He remembers his body slowing down towards the end of the time he was human. Crowley put an end to that, and Dean still can’t figure out if he should thank him for it.

Whatever (whoever) it is doesn’t put up much of a fight, and it’s not until he’s a split second away from gutting the poor bastard that Dean realises he knows the intruder.

He pulls back slightly, settling the angel blade against Gadreel’s throat instead of in his chest. “What the hell are you doing here? And how did you get in?”

The angel smirked slightly. “I spent many months living here when I occupied your brother’s body, Dean Winchester. And your protective sigils need renewal if you wish them to work against the likes of me.”

“Not much that can kill me now.”

“Only one person, in fact.” Gadreel pushes him away and Dean allows it. He can still kill the angel before he makes it to the door. “Your wayward brother. You’d have done better to let me keep him. At least then he wouldn’t be associated with the filth he’s consorting with now.”

“Don’t know if you noticed, buddy, but the guy you’re talking to is pretty much the world’s worst filth, by your angelic standards.”

“I am aware of your fall from Grace, but at least it was for a noble cause.” Gadreel paused. “One which your brother prevented you from achieving.”

“Are you going to stand there telling me things I already know or is there a point to this?” Dean rolls his eyes and wishes the memory of his brother snarling “Enough” at him wasn’t quite so prominent in his mind.

“The demons your brother is surrounded by are among the oldest and most potent beings in the universe. They are persuasive and they are powerful and they have bewitched your brother. Do you not wish to do something about it?”

Dean snorts. “I’m pretty sure he made that decision on his own, pal. Sammy’s all about making his own decisions.”

“And yet he allowed himself to persuaded remarkably quickly to become King of Hell, if what I have heard is true. He has yielded to a demon’s persuasion before and it nearly ended the universe. Do you honestly think he would make the same mistake twice?”

“Look, he seems to know what he’s doing. I don’t like it, and I don’t like what he’s turned into, but that’s on him, not me.”

“I was not suggesting otherwise. But I have been inside your brother’s head. I do not think this is what he wants. Not truly.”

“So, what, you think the demons are using him? What for?”

Gadreel shrugs. “A power play, possibly. Maybe even a greater goal. Sam has always been the key to the Cage. Perhaps they seek to release Lucifer. I do not know their minds. I do know that your brother would gladly kill himself a thousand, a million times over before he would wish Lucifer upon the world.”

“So, what, you want to help me? Help Sam? I’ve heard that one before, and you ended up killing Kevin and taking Sam’s body for a joyride.” Dean smiles mirthlessly. “I lost my brother because of what you did with his body.”

“I am aware that I forfeited your trust when I joined with Metatron, but I was misled. I believed he could make Heaven what it once was. I know now that I was duped. Nothing I say can make up for the murder of your friend, but this is a more important matter. Your brother must not be allowed to release Lucifer a second time.”

“You just said he wouldn’t.”

“Not knowingly.”

“You think they’re using him to get Lucifer back? I was there earlier today. They adore him. They’d knife anyone who came near him.”

“The demon Balaam, perhaps. The others have sworn oaths that are more flexible. I would not wish them near any brother of mine.”

“So what? Even if they are planning something, I can’t do anything about it. He’s on his own and he prefers it that way. He’d rather trust demons than his own brother.”

“And you don’t think that is troubling in itself? Dean, your brother is being used by the greatest deceivers since Lucifer himself!” The angel seems genuinely worried. Not that he’d ever been a bad liar, but this seems to ring true.

“What the hell do you suggest I do about it, then? Go stop them yourself if you’re so worried.”

“We can’t. We require your help.” Gadreel closed the gap between them and placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “It is a hard thing I must ask of you, my friend. But your brother must be stopped. For his own good and the good of the entire world.”

“And what exactly do you think I can do? I tried talking him out of it! I tried telling him that this wouldn’t lead anywhere good! He didn’t listen to me! He never listens to me!”

“I think we are past the time for talking, my friend. Now is the time for action.”

Dean feels a cold hand close over his heart. No, not his heart. He doesn’t have one anymore. “You want to kill him.” It’s not a question.

“I want him to be at peace, Dean. I want the world to be at peace, and free from the demonic influence it has suffered under for so long. I want my Father’s creation to flourish. I want my brothers and sisters to return home, and be the shepherds of humanity that we were meant to be. I am sorry that it has come to this, but your brother has become what you both fought against for so many years. Your brother has realised all Azazel’s plans for him, and he must be stopped!”

Dean turns away from Gadreel for a moment, staring at the wall and swiping a hand over his mouth. This can’t be happening. This song has been sung already, he can’t kill his brother, the entire universe knows that, and yet…

And yet.

If this is for Sammy. For the wide-eyed, happy little boy that Dean hasn’t seen since they were children. Maybe he can. Because Sam doesn’t deserve this, he really truly doesn’t, and Dean had seen it in him the day he left Sam’s new place after the fight with Crowley. His little brother never wanted this. Never. It was just the best choice he’d thought they’d had at the time. Dean knows that now, and he doesn’t necessarily disagree, now that he’s had time and an abundance of loneliness to consider it, but if the slimy bastards he’s with are plotting behind his back… Sam’s always been too trusting. Always. Ruby was proof of that.

But killing him. ‘Look after Sammy’ is hardwired into Dean, it’s his reason for being, he can’t just let that go.

Unless there is no other choice. Gadreel’s right, Sam would pull the trigger himself if he thought it would stop Lucifer rising again. And he has a chance at being happy again, if he goes to Heaven. Death likes him, and he’s not actually a demon, so there’s a chance. And Jess would go back to Heaven with him and they could be happy together.

He’s already made up his mind when he turns back to Gadreel, even if he hasn’t quite admitted it to himself yet.

“So why do you need me? And how can I possibly trust you? You’ve screwed me over before.”

“I know. But I hope to show you that this time will be different. I would have you come with me to meet my comrades. There is work to be done, and a man of your skills would be invaluable.”

“I’m a demon. Didn’t you say associating with demons was frowned on?”

“Needs must. And you are no regular demon.” Gadreel backs up a few steps and holds Dean’s stare for a moment. “Will you join us?”

Dean nods. He doesn’t entirely trust his voice.


	3. For Each Cause A Rebel

The place Gadreel takes him to is an abandoned warehouse in the middle of nowhere. The hairs on the back of his neck stand up as he senses the wards in place around it, old and powerful things that make his mouth taste of sulfur.

 

“This way. There are people I wish you to meet.” Gadreel gestures towards the door nearest to them, and Dean follows him, uncomfortably aware of his current lack of weapons.

 

There’s a small group of people ( _angels_ ) inside the warehouse, clustered around a table, who all look up as they enter. None look desperately pleased to see Dean, but no-one voices an objection, either.

 

“I believe you all know of Dean Winchester.” Gadreel places a hand on his shoulder in an obvious effort at camaraderie, stilted enough that Dean knows it’s for their benefit, not his.

 

“He’s a Knight of Hell, Gadreel. Infamous doesn’t quite cover it.” The angel nearest to them gives him a mocking once-over and visibly dismisses him. “There’s a group of angels near Boston that require our attention.”

 

“Nuqael, enough. We need Dean.” Annoyance bleeds through every word.

 

“No, Gadreel, what we need is to send any wayward angels home and then return there ourselves. It’s chaos both up there and down here, and Hell is a secondary problem.”

 

“Heaven can wait. Our task was to guide and protect humanity.” Gadreel intones, sounding more pompous than Dean’s ever heard him. “We cannot do that without adequately removing any threat from the hellspawn.”

 

Dean snorts. “What’s wrong with Heaven these days, anyway?”

 

“It has no leader and no mission. Metatron was removed from power years ago, by your brother and his council. No other has stepped up to take his place.” Another angel answers, directing a dry look at Gadreel as he does so.

 

“What about Cas?”

 

“You want us to put our faith in Castiel? Again?” Nuqael snorts. “That ended really exceptionally badly for us last time.”

 

“So who’s your new leader?”

 

“That is a decision for later, once we have retaken Heaven.” Gadreel pauses. “For now it is split into different factions, each warring with each other, and more than half our kin have remained on Earth long past when they should have returned. We intend to return them to Heaven, forcibly if need be, so that we can rebuild.”

 

“Ok, whatever, but I kind of see bitch-face’s point. What the hell do you need me for if you’re all going home? Why not just go?”

 

“Humanity can’t hope to eradicate the demon scourge alone.” Yet another angel breaks in. “We owe it to our father to accomplish this before we leave.”

 

“Right. Sure. Righteous angels. Definitely heard that one before.”

 

“More righteous than the righteous man proved himself to be.” Nuqael sneers at him.

 

He grins at her and flashes his eyes black. “Sweetheart, I’m a demon. More righteous than me ain’t hard.”

 

“Yes, because you were oh-so-righteous when you were human. Of course. Forgive my foolishly dulled senses.”

 

Gadreel sighs. “Enough, Nuqael. You said there were rogue angels near Boston?”

 

She rolls her eyes. “Now you care. Did I hurt your pet’s feelings? The rogues are using an office block. They seem to be trying to help humanity, but they’ve refused to return to Heaven multiple times now. Some of Castiel’s old supporters are there. You remember Hannah and Flagstaff?”

 

“Why do they refuse to return?”

 

“Some bullshit about being able to do more good here. They’ve stopped listening to any mandates from Heaven, no matter how old they are or who they came from.”

 

Gadreel nods. “Penemue, take Dean, Armen, Daniel and Semyaza and deal with them.”

 

“They’re angels, pal. They’re your problem, not mine.”

 

“We need to know you can do your damn job, Winchester.” Penemue rumbles down at him. The guy’s 6’5’’ at the very least. “You’ve been out of the game for fifty years and you weren’t as impressive as you think you were to start with. Get your ass in gear, we’re leaving in five.”

 

Dean narrows his eyes at the angel, debating whether it’s worth arguing. “Fine. I need a knife. Your boss here didn’t give me time to grab anything.”

 

Gadreel hands him an angel blade and nods his dismissal. Dean considers ramming the blade through his neck, and possibly stabbing the queen bitch he’s now talking to. Wouldn’t be difficult. But Penemue and Daniel are watching him like they know what he’s thinking, so he follows them out of the door without killing anyone.

 

The office block the rogue angels are occupying is possibly even more run-down than the warehouse Gadreel’s holed up in. They don’t bother with subterfuge, Daniel opting instead to kick the door in. Penemue and Semyaza went round the back to cut off the retreat: fortunate, given the amount of running towards the back door the rogue angels are doing. A few opt to stay and fight, but the majority run for the doors. There’s a lot of screaming coming from the opposite end of the building.

 

“Is this what we’ve become? Murdering those of our siblings who choose to do good?” The angel who spoke shifts her grip on her knife, circling Daniel warily.

 

“Our place is in Heaven, Hannah. Castiel’s example is not one to follow. Go home.”

 

“To what? A stupid war that no-one’s going to win?” She’s closer to Dean now, and her attention isn’t on him. “We were meant to help humanity, not -”

 

Dean grabs her by the throat and buries his knife in her back.

 

Another of the rogue angels lets out a choked cry of grief, charges him and is stopped by a knife to the head from Armen. The rest of the rogue angels that remained in the building (seven in total) are easily dealt with, and Dean does a sweep of the building as they move towards the back door. Another twenty bodies are scattered around the back room, and Penemue nods approvingly when he sees them.

 

“Not bad. Get them all?”

 

“No-one left in the building.” Daniel replies.

 

“Hannah and Flagstaff?”

 

“Dean got Hannah. We didn’t see Flagstaff, I assume she fled towards you?”

 

“Damnit. Search the building again.”

 

The other angels nod and fan out, leaving Dean and Penemue in the back room. A few minutes later, they return empty-handed.

 

The copier in the corner starts up suddenly, and spits out a single sheet of paper. Dean grabs it and rolls his eyes at the message on it.

 

“She’s not here. She ran in time to save herself or she’s watching us from somewhere else, but she is long gone.”

 

He shoves the paper at Penemue, and ignores the feeling in his gut that tells him Flagstaff’s probably right.

 

_Your King will be very displeased with you, Dean Winchester._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not terribly happy with this chapter, but I figured you'd all waited long enough. I'll try and focus on this fic a bit more.


	4. To Thine Own Self Be True

Sam should be concentrating on his book. He should. It’s about medieval witchcraft, it’s authentic, it’s fascinating, and it’s not nearly as important as Jess playing with his hair. She’s leaning against him, half asleep, and combing her fingers through his hair. He resists the urge to abandon the book and curl up next to her. Balaam’s standing by the door and grins at him like he knows what he’s thinking. Sam rolls his eyes and pretends to go back to his book.

He’s glad he doesn’t actually do so, because then he’d have missed Abaddon slamming the door open into Balaam’s face. His snort of laughter wakes Jess up and Abaddon looks vaguely contrite before launching into her report.

“Boss, your brother -”

Balaam groans and slams the door shut again, rubbing his face. “You hit me with a door because of Dean? Really?” He straightens his nose with a painful-sounding crunch.

Abaddon glares at him. “He’s been picked up by Gadreel. One of my boys saw him at a raid against a supposedly rogue angel hideout and it looks like he’s working with them.”

Sam raises an eyebrow at her. “And?”

Jess pokes him in the ribs. “Be nice. We like her.”

“One of the angels got away. Flagstaff, she’s calling herself.” Abaddon continues, preening a little at Jess’ words. “She says Gadreel and a few of the older angels are forcing all the winged dipshits back to Heaven at knifepoint. Or killing them.”

“Dean’s his own master, Abaddon. If he wants to kill angels, he can kill angels. Doesn’t bother me.”

“Flagstaff said something about them trying to cleanse the Earth.”

“So they’re looking to send all the demons home as well. Ambitious.” Sam considers for a moment. “Try and get some idea of what they’re planning. They’ll need to take us out if they want to deal with Hell. Balaam, increase security on the house and tell Asmodeus that if anyone so much as sneezes on the Gate then I want to know about it.”

“Will do.” Balaam salutes and opens the door for Abaddon with a sweeping bow. She stalks out of the room with her head held high, muttering under her breath at Balaam, who’s trailing behind her. Jess smiles distractedly at their backs, before turning to Sam.

“You ok, babe?” She leans against him again and goes back to stroking his hair. He’s maybe not been very subtle about how much he likes it.

He smiles at her. “Sure. Just some rogue angels, nothing to worry about.”

She pokes him again. “Nope. Not buying it. Try again.”

“Jess, seriously, it’s fine. We’ll figure out what Gadreel wants and stop him if needs be, and-”

“Still nope. Sam, you’re allowed to still care about Dean.”

“Of course I care about him, he’s my brother.”

Jess sighs. “I know. And you’re also allowed to be worried about what the stupid murder mark is making him do.”

“… It’s not that.” Sam fiddles with a button on his cuffs. It’s loose. He’ll get Balaam to fix it.

Jess lays a hand over his, stilling him. “Ok, so what is it?”

“I’m… I’m worried that the Mark isn’t making him do anything.”

* * *

Dean follows Semyaza back into the warehouse, ignoring the look of disdain Nuqael shoots him. He mostly tunes out Penemue’s report to Gadreel, until he gets to Flagstaff.

“She left a note, more or less threatening Winchester here. Odds are she’s going to side with the demons. We should consider moving our schedule up.”

“So Sam Winchester knows that Dean is with us, and that we are returning angels to Heaven. Hardly worth worrying about.” Gadreel says dismissively.

Nuqael rolls her eyes. “And what about when he wonders why his brother is working with us? You don’t think he might be slightly concerned that his brother is working with someone who possessed him and killed their friend? Are you that short-sighted?”

“Dean is here of his own accord.”

“I’m aware of that, and so is Sam Winchester. He’s the King of Hell, he must be well aware of how difficult it is to corral Knights of Hell. He’s going to assume Dean is here for revenge on him and we have completely lost any element of surprise we had because you couldn’t wait to go pick up your new pet! And if Penemue had done his damned job -”

“I’m not here for revenge on Sam.”

Nuqael stops short in her tirade and stares at him. “What?”

Dean shrugs. “I’m not here for revenge or whatever. Your boss here thinks Sam’s being used by the demons to resurrect Lucifer, and I don’t want that. So. Here I am.”

“… Right.” Nuqael hasn’t stopped staring at him. “You’re willing to send your brother back downstairs to bunk with Lucifer because you care about the universe.”

“He won’t be in the Cage, and Hell freakin’ loves him. Even if he ends up downstairs after he dies, he’ll be ok.”

Gadreel nods. “Indeed. Nuqael, I appreciate your concerns, but -”

Daniel cuts him off. “You didn’t tell him.”

“Who didn’t tell who what?” Dean glares and reaches for his knife.

Daniel glances at Gadreel. “Sam’s not going to die. He can’t. He’s the King of Hell, the promised boyking, Lucifer’s vessel, the antichrist, you name it. He can’t be killed.”

“So what are you planning on doing with him?” The cold hand in his chest is back.

Nuqael has moved so she’s out of his way, he has a clear shot at Gadreel, who sighs dramatically.

“I would have told you, my friend, but I did not want to burden you unnecessarily.”

“Tell me. Now.” Dean growls.

“The only way to remove your brother from power is to place him in the Cage. It was built to contain archangels, he will not be able to escape.”

There’s a roaring in his ears suddenly, and the cold hand squeezes his chest.

“You want to throw my brother back to Lucifer?”

“There is nothing else that can be done, Dean. He is not your brother anymore, and this is necessary.”

The knife in his hand shakes as he launches himself at Gadreel.

Penemue grabs him before he can stab the treacherous son of a bitch and body checks him into a plasterboard wall. By the time he pulls himself out of the dent his body made, the angels are gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I have no excuse for how long this took. Thesis writing sucks. Don't do a PhD, kids.


End file.
